


Come when you call

by mckinlily



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bring back real!Shiro, Gen, Kuron doesn't know he's a clone, Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, Kuron is trying His Best, Shiro for Black Paladin forever, and also the Voltron bonds, extreme liberties taken when Voltron void space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 11:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14519367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mckinlily/pseuds/mckinlily
Summary: Shiro will always come when his team needs him. Though it may not be the way anyone expects—or recognizes.





	Come when you call

The mission started like any other. There had been a time once when every mission for Voltron went utterly wrong and they only pulled through by skin of their teeth, but those moments had become rare since Lotor joined them. Now, missions went smoothly—Even, dare he say it, according to plan.

It started like any other mission. Voltron was deployed to a planet, the home of a quintessence shipment center. The defenses were strong, but the information Lotor gave checked out (it always checked out), and Pidge and Hunk were able remotely shut down their big guns. Now they just had fighters and a handful of battle cruisers to take care of.

He was getting complacent.

Shiro watched Lance dart through the battlefield, really getting the hang of how to utilize Red. Allura was near the surface, a precaution against possible druids. Hunk and Pidge were both in the air, carving out large tracks in the fighters. Shiro expected to call the mission a success within the next half varga. He was just swinging the Black Lion around for another pass through the fighters when—

_PAIN_

— _something_ hit him. White hot and ice cold. Blinding light and darkest void. Claws, poison-tipped razors, cutting into him, straight through his chest, piercing his heart—no, _through_ his heart. Shiro was thrown into a flashback, worse than anything he’d had in months.

— _losing control of Black. Grimy, rotten quintenessence tearing at his bond with her. Pain. Black! Where are you? Hurts_ _. Bond being torn from him like wire through wet clay. BLACK!—_

No. No no no. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. _Please._

He tried to pull back, out of the flashback, but he couldn’t. A weight, deeper than he was, was keeping him there, stuck in the same awful moment, even stronger and more painful that he remembered.

— _Losing. Paladin. Hurt. Failed—_

It got worse. It was _inside_ of him. This terrible, destroying, malicious power, crawling out of his gut like a vicious parasite, cutting him and Black both.

No. Stop. Please. No. _Black!_

Shiro grasped out for her. He couldn’t lose Black again. Even if their bond had been damaged by whatever the Galra had done to him last time, he still had to save her now. Surely there was something.

Nothing.

Gone.

 _No!_ Shiro flung his mind out desperately, frantic to find his connection to Black again, but it was like scraping at an empty bowl. There was nothing there. Like it had never existed in the first place.

_BLACK!_

He could still sense her, but she felt like she was across the room, behind a TV screen, untouchable. Giant and monstrous, a marvelous being far beyond anything he could comprehend, like oceans, supernovae, the push and pull of the universe. All that power, that magnitude and weight—and all that _pain_. Great torn cuts, teeth shorn through solid metal. She was cracked open, and the monstrous energy (—from him. It was coming from inside of _him_ —) was devouring her.

Her mind was open pain. She was screaming, wailing, begging for help and _he couldn’t do anything._ Shiro flung himself out, throwing everything he had, but he might as well be throwing smoke for all the good it did. His own body was locked up in pain. He knew what he had to do—( _He had done this once before. He had had someone try to pry between their bond, and he had won that_ )—but he couldn’t make it work now. Everything that had once told him how to do this seemed to have been cleared out with surgical precision. He couldn’t do it! He couldn’t touch her!

BLACK! _Help, oh, please help._ He couldn’t do this. He was a plastic shell, and she was still screaming in pain. He was supposed to do something about that. He had once. He remembered it. He couldn’t.

_Please. Please please please. I can’t do this again. Make it stop. Please._

He had figured out what she was screaming now. Her paladin. She wanted her paladin back. To save her.

And he couldn’t do it.

The pain was unbearable. Sharp needles spiked along every point in his skin. There was something wet around his noise. He tasted blood. Why did he taste blood? Pressure exploded behind his eyes.

_No._

_My paladin. Come back. Save me._

Too much—He couldn’t—

The ocean moved.

He couldn’t describe it. It was like looking at the entire universe collapsed into an infinite pool and watching something underneath _shift_ it. The weight was immeasurable, endless, but something was moving it, pushing it. Inch by inch, it came closer.

It was oddly small. Life-sized. But there was a sense to it that seemed endless. Like an oil slick. Black, until you looked closer and saw the multitude of colors swirling in it. Like drifting out of the space station, one human being, the void of space. Small. Persistent. Wave after wave crashing onto the sand. Stars going supernovae only to be born again. Fleeting but giant and magnificent. And—somehow Shiro just knew— _this_ was the Black Lion’s equal.

This  _something_ , as awing and deep as the Black Lion herself, slogged through the folds of the universe for them. The harsh darkness that was burning Shiro’s insides hissed and crackled, slashed at this new challenger, attempting to dig its claws deeper into Black.

 _No,_ the presence insisted. It sounded more human than Shiro had expected. Faint and a little exhausted but no less certain because of it. _Not yours._

The darkness _snarled_ , and if Shiro had been able to feel anything but pain at the moment, he would have shuddered with dread because he recognized that voice. Hagar. Oh stars, she was here. She was _inside_ him. She was inside _Black_.

The presence recognized her was well. It trembled. Fear, terror, dread, horror—

And all consuming anger.

_Not. YOURS._

The presence spat in Hagar’s face and dove for Black. Where Shiro couldn’t touch her now, the presence _could_. It was still trembling—weak even, Shiro thought—but possessing a determination that was almost terrifying to encounter. It latched onto Black, holding on tight, filling her gaping wounds, and forcing the darkness out.

(Because the Black Lion had wounds. Shiro knew that— _remembered_ that—now. She had deep, aching voids left from the bond with her first paladin that had been corrupted. She had shown him that, once, when she took him through her memories and he had offered up his soul to fill those gaps she couldn’t. It had been together like that that they had been able to sever the cruel bond with Zarkon. He—how had he _forgotten?_ )

The presence was spread thin now. It was like a single line of silk trying to hold up a monstrous bridge. It held, barely, miraculously, possibly by sheer will alone. Hagar’s magics retreated. To regroup. To attack again. This time with the intent to _destroy._

And the Black Lion _moved._ Suddenly, she was vibrant, more awake, more _present_ than Shiro had felt her in months. She surged forward, all her massive power and quintessence solidifying into an awe-inspiring shield around the new presence.

 ** _Mine_** , she snarled, her voice deep and dark and distinctly _not_ human.

 _Yours,_ agreed the presence.

And between the two of them, they managed to roll the darkness back. Hagar continued to scratch and claw at them, but Black held them shielded while the presence kept the Black Lion safe. The pain ebbed away. Shiro opened his eyes, could see the control panels in front him. He felt like a fried circuit board and there was a dull pounding in the back of his head, but he could _think_ again. The peace felt fragile, tenuous at best. Hagar’s magic continued to chew at them, but the presence and the Black Lion managed to hold her off.

For now.

Shiro struggled to pull his thoughts together. The mission. Lotor had said it was important that…

The presence stirred. It reached through the Black Lion’s bond and—

It was like Shiro’s chest had been hit like a gong. Color exploded, ringing through him, long and deep.

 _Team,_ the presence said, paired with a feeling of protect-need-shield-affection-lead- **team**. _Team first._

“Shiro!” That was Pidge on the lines. “Are you okay?”

“I’m—” Shiro choked on the words over another explosion of feeling—

_I’m here! Are you okay? I’mhereI’mhereI’mhere!—_

_**Protect**_ **.**

“I’m fine.”

Black wavered under his hands. She sent—him? The presence? Who exactly was he right now?—a pulse of worry. She wouldn’t be able to hold this shield forever.

“There’s something messing with my bond with Black. We need to get out of here.”

“What?!”

“But Zarkon’s dead! How could—?”

“You are considering leaving?” Lotor’s voice cut over the other paladins. “This planet is essential to the quintessence fuel lines. We _must_ control it.”

Shiro was immediately yanked in two directions. Lotor was right: the mission was paramount. It was unacceptable to—But overriding that, came a rush of feeling.

_NO. Danger. Protect. Team first._

_Team._

_**First.** _

It hit deep, low, resonating in a part Shiro he didn’t know he had, almost animalistic in its intensity. The team _came first._ They were his crew. His responsibility. Fire lit in his soul, sparked with memories—

— _tearing the sword out of the sentry’s hand, determined to make the Galra pick him, not Matt_ —

— _taking the brunt of Sendak’s attack, to protect Lance, to give Keith an opening—_

 _—Allura throwing him into the escape pod. He_ failed—

And a new memory. Or, at least, one Shiro hadn’t remembered until just now—

— _Castle down. Voltron dead in the water, devastated by Hagar’s attack. Pouring everything he has into the bond, his team. “We can’t give up. We **won’t** give up.”—_

Determination billowed up inside of him, catching fire, filled with burning, unquenchable passion. He was Takashi Shirogane. He was Champion. He was the Black Paladin. He did _not_ give in. Resolution, righteous outrage, deep-seated desire to care for and do right by his team—all the things that Shiro remembered feeling but had felt so distant from lately—flared in full force. Gone were the muted, muffled emotions he’d been struggling with for so long. He felt like _himself_ again.

Hagar’s magics flared again as well, and both the presence and the Black Lion flinched and tensed to hold her back. Almost as one they sent back the message: _Hurry._

Shiro tightened his grip on the controls. “Converge on me. We’ll punch our way through the fighters and then get out of here.”

“You cannot leave this planet in their hands!” shouted Lotor.

The presence curled in his chest like a cobra about to strike. **_Team_** , it snarled while Black purred her agreement.

_Voltron helps._

Shiro screwed up his eyes against the coming pain. They were right. His first duty as the Black Paladin was to do right by his team. Not the mission. No matter what—

“Shiro. Listen to me!”

**_No_ ** _._

He inhaled. “Form Voltron!”

And…

The pain didn’t come. Hagar’s attack surged again, but there was no deep-seated nerve pain—

(Why did he think there would be pain? Why did he feel compelled to _obey_?)

—the other paladins fell into formation, and for a moment, it was the easiest time forming Voltron he could remember. And then—It was like missing a step down the stairs. Reaching out but missing a hand—

_Keith! Where’s Keith? Why—? Where—?_

( _Worry_ )

He existed in multiple locations at once, unsure of where he was, or what he was supposed to be doing, completely thrown by the Lion swap. Where was Keith? Why was Lance there? Who was in Blue? Thoughts spun wildly in his head. At the very last second, he found Allura again, figured out where everyone was supposed to go, and was able pull them all together. Or maybe the presence did. It wrapped around all of them, fierce, scared, and protective.

Voltron came into being.

“Whoa,” said Lance. “Was I the only one who felt that?”

“Nope. Definitely not,” said Hunk, breathless. “That was…”

“Shiro?” whispered Pidge.     

There was something to their voices, some feeling he couldn’t name, but he didn’t have the resources to figure it out. He was basically working in a hive-mind of himself, the presence, and the Black Lion. He could feel impulses of the other Lions, too, as they adjusted to protect him and Black. Blue in particular was feeding touches of Allura’s energy into their shield. It was overwhelming. His head was crammed full of three—five—ten— _eleven_ —minds and it was all he could do to work out some form of control.

“The Galra are regrouping,” warned Allura.

Shiro nodded. “Let’s go.” He couldn’t think much else.

Luckily, the other paladins were ready. They surged forward, and Shiro just focused on keeping Black in line with the other Lions while they moved. He kept getting pulses of emotion. Confusion. Longing. Worry. They ebbed as soon as they appeared and never quite made sense, especially combined with the jolts of magic that Black and the presence just barely managed to hold off. His thoughts narrowed down to one word answers: Focus. Goal. Get out.

“…think there’s an opening…”

“Take it,” said Shiro. “Pidge—shield.”

Voltron blasted through, scattering Galra fighters like dominos. Shiro caught sight of the winking light of the Castle in the distance with relief. The end was in sight. As long as they could make it there.

“Hunk, Allura—thrusters at max.”

“Is it really that bad?” asked Lance, sounding worried.

Shiro checked in with the cacophony in his head and only nodded. The presence had stopped talking now, instead hunkering deeper into Black, trying to protect her. Their double shield was wearing thin. Shiro wanted to answer Lance, reassure him, but the words seemed beyond him right now.

“Coran, we’re coming in fast,” reported Allura.

“Wormhole,” Shiro managed.

"What? Are you certain, Shiro?”

“Yes.” Every word was a battle. Hagar was eating at the presence now, and it was fighting with everything it had, but it wouldn’t last long. “We need to go. Now.”

“Is there enough energy?” asked Allura.

“Well, yes, I—Yes, I believe so. Enough for one jump.”

“Are we sure about this?” put in Lotor. “The defenses are nothing. Voltron could—”

“Jump,” commanded Shiro. “Now!”

_Please believe me. You have to listen to me. It’s the only way to protect you._

The wormhole opened.

Shiro fired Voltron’s back thrusters with everything he had. They were almost through when Hagar’s claws found purchase—Voltron fell apart and they fell through the wormhole. Shiro couldn’t register the distress of the other paladins over his own desperate efforts to retain control of Black. The presence was fighting off Hagar desperately but losing. Shiro and Black shut off all non-vital systems, letting them fall in free fall while she channeled any scrape of excess energy into blocking Hagar. Shiro dropped into the bond as deep as he possibly could. Black still felt too far away, separated by a thin, clear covering, like touching dough through plastic wrap, but he could feel the presence and poured his soul towards that.

_Please. Take me too. Anything you need. Let me help._

Shiro didn’t know how they made it. At some point, the wormhole progressed too far, and the magic snapped. Black collapsed into her hangar, exhausted and profoundly ungraceful. Shiro lurched against the controls. His extremities were trembling like the result of a bad fever. For a moment, all he could do was sit and shake, waiting for Hagar to attack them again.

But she didn’t. Slowly, it sunk in that they had made it. They were safe. Shiro slumped over the controls, shaky with relief. The pain, the malicious darkness, it was gone. He was _safe._

Without really thinking, he reached out for that presence that had saved him—him and Black both—only to find it weak. Without the immediate threat of Hagar, it no longer felt so much bigger than life. Instead, it felt hurt and drained, lonely and abandoned. Even as Shiro reached out, it struggled to stay connected, and Shiro realized—

This wasn’t some great being like he had expected. It was a _person_.

It felt like the first clear though Shiro had ever had. This was a _person_ who just saved him. Mortal and perishable—and hurt and trapped and, oh gosh, despite coming for him and Black, _they_ were in deep trouble themselves _._ Almost desperate, Shiro flung himself out again.

_What is it? Who are you? How do I help?_

He could feel the person trying. They were scrambling, struggling to hold on and slipping. They were trying to convey an idea, a message, something important. But though Shiro tried so hard it felt as if his mind was physically slamming against his scull, he couldn’t understand it.

At last the presence couldn’t hold on any longer. Shiro got one last pulse of emotion—( _love_ ) ( _despair)_ —and it slipped beneath the surface. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring it back.

Shiro slumped against his seat. He felt Black pulse and explode in grief. She sent her sensors out, scrambling for their savior, but somehow they both knew it was hopeless. Even so, she kept looking.

The Black Lion left the bond. Shiro was alone in his head.

It was strange. His mind felt…quiet. Empty. Like a room cleared out of all it’s clutter, and he could finally see its walls. There was no other being pushing against his consciousness, no fogginess, no headache. When had been the last time that had been true? For a moment, he simply sat there and processed, marveling at the feeling of his mind being his own again.

But his thoughts couldn’t stay quiet for long. His brain had been stuffed full of cotton, and now that it had been cleared out from the gears, it didn’t take long for them to start whirling. Who _was_ their savior? How did they know Black so well? How could he help them?—But those thoughts were quickly overrun by far more disturbing ones.

Like Lotor. Why had Shiro felt compelled to obey him? Even now, why did that feel so  _important_? Lotor wasn’t his commander. If anyone, that should be Allura, but he’d been at odds with her lately. That wasn’t…that wasn’t _right_. Even with Lotor was on their side and a very much needed ally, Shiro’s duty was to his team first. He should never choose Lotor over—

And, oh gosh, _Keith_. The presence’s shock and distress over his absence had been so acute. How had _he_ not felt that before? It was _Keith_. His best friend. And— But— _No._ The Blade was no excuse. He couldn’t remember—What had Keith said when he was leaving? Had Keith even wanted to join the Blade or was that just Keith leaving first before other left him? Shiro didn’t know, and he hadn’t stopped it. He should have said something. Even if the Blade _was_ best for Keith, Shiro still should have been contacting him, sending him video messages, bugging him constantly about getting enough sleep and other hypocritical messages because Keith needed to know he was wanted and _missed._

How—How had Shiro not even contacted Keith for his _own_ sake? He’d missed Keith, hadn’t he? He would never call Keith just because he was lonely, but stars knew he was good at lying to himself. He could have found an excuse. Besides, worrying over Keith was second nature.

So why hadn’t he?

Why hadn’t he so many things. Why hadn’t he stopped to talk through tactics with Allura? Even when they disagreed, he still valued her opinion. More even, perhaps.  He should have taken the time make that clear and to actually _listen_ to it. Now that he thought of it, when was the last time he had taken the time to sit down and listen to _anyone_?

Shiro’s heart started pumping very hard as he tried and failed to come up with a good explanation. He hadn’t just been handing down orders and bossing everyone around, had he? That wasn’t the kind of leader he wanted to be! Hunk and Lance and Pidge were all still so very young and struggling with so many things. They needed protection, guidance, someone to listen to their worries and tell them it was going to be all right—and why hadn’t he _done_ that? When—when was the last time he had just _talked_ with them? When had he spent time with them outside of missions and training?

What had he been _doing_? How could he have—?

Static crackled on the coms. Shiro jumped and stared wildly around.

“Shiro?” Lance’s face was projected on the screen, helmet off and hair sticking up in every direction. “Are you coming? Allura wants to debrief.”

Shiro cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m—I’ll be there.” And then he turned off the coms.

The headache was coming back. His thoughts were slowing down, not in a good way. He felt burdened, sluggish. He was having a hard holding on to what he had thought just minutes ago. Something about being a leader… He was doing bad job right now. He needed to do better. And Keith. He needed… Keith… and…something about Lotor…

It was all foggy and vaguely pained. Weakness. He couldn’t let the team know. That was the duty of the Black Paladin. To never let…the team…know…

Right?

Shiro squeezed the handles that now felt absolutely dead. Black was still searching, and his connection with her was worse than ever. That was fine. He’d just—

(— _Someone out there was hurt. He had to help them. But how could he when_ he _was—_ )

Pain flared behind his eyes, sharp and sudden, and he stopped that train of thought. Team now. He had to go to them and pretend everything was fine and lead them so they’d never guess how wrong he was.

As he approached the bridge, he heard them talking.

“—from the ringing on the read-outs. It’s hard to tell because it’s Voltron and everything went kind of haywire, but I think it originated somewhere internally.”

“Oh. Yeah. But how would that happen? You’d have to have some kind of, like, quintessence remote control. And a…quintessence receiver? Antenna?”

“Yeah, and that’s not even getting to these readings here. If you look at the modes, we’re registering way too many. On a quantum level, you’d at least except—”

 “Shiro! You’re here!”

Allura smiled at him as he came onto the deck, but her eyes were strained. She looked tense and worried. He couldn’t tell if that was because of the current situation or something that he’d been missing until now. He didn’t like that he didn’t know.

“I’m here. Sorry it took so long.”

“No need to apologize,” said Allura.

“Yeah, are you sure you’re all right?” said Hunk. “In Voltron, your bond felt kind of, uh…”

“Doubled,” said Pidge. When everyone looked at her, she pushed her glasses up her nose and folded her arms. “Like beat frequencies. When you have two waves near the same frequency but not quite you can hear them beat against each other. It sort of felt like that.”

Lance flopped dramatically across his seat. “Can we _please_ stop with all the physics talk?”

“Well, sor- _ry_ for trying to prevent Shiro from losing control of the Black Lion again!”

“Perhaps it’s best to take a step back from it all the same,” said Lotor. “If the druids have created a new weapon that can interfere with Voltron, we must investigate it at the source.”

That was a good point. It made sense except…

Shiro was so _tired._ He’d just spent what felt like hours in the most grueling mental battlefield, but it felt like more than that. He emotions were muffled again, everything leaden and dead and so, so far away. Already, even his fight in the Black Lion felt distant, more like a dream than reality.

And yet it _had_ happened. It had been _real_. He remembered it, and he remembered how, for the first time since his second escape, he had felt like himself again.

 _Team first,_ the presence had said. It meant so much to that presence, more than Shiro could dredge up right now, but he knew he believed in that vision more than anything.

At the same time, there was an instinct, dull and persistent as the omnipresent headaches, telling him that he had to hide this. Distance was important as a leader. He couldn’t allow any one to get too close. But that seemed to be at odds with what the presence had been saying.

Who did he trust? Himself or the impossible presence who saved him?

 _Voltron helps,_ the Black Lion had said.

“Guys…”

Pressure flooded his head, pressed down on his throat and into his chest. No. Don’t do this. It’s not right.

_Protect them._

Shiro swallowed against the pain and forced the words out.

“There’s something wrong with me.”  

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot and therefore complete. If you liked it, consider leaving kudos or a comment! :D


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